


Some Assembly Required

by Kacka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5995933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke doesn't usually offer to help random strangers while she's shopping but this guy really looks like he needs it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Assembly Required

Clarke isn’t normally the kind of person to strike up a conversation with a stranger, much less to involve herself in their problems, but this guy really looks like he needs help.

He’s been a few steps ahead or behind her for the past twenty minutes, both of them winding their ways separately through the maze also known as Ikea. She noticed him first because he’s about her age and, well, he’s attractive. She’s not above admitting that she’s been checking him out surreptitiously. He doesn’t have a basket or a cart, doesn’t have any items in his arms, and, as far as she can tell, hasn’t been really  _ looking _ at the furniture. He’s just been opening and closing a lot of cabinets. 

So when she rounds a corner just in time to watch him fall backward onto one of the display beds with a world-weary exhale, she gets an uncommon urge to say something to him. It’s not an instinct she’s ever had to fight against before, so she caves to it pretty easily.

Upon closer inspection, she sees that he has a phone clenched in one hand and his glasses in the other, arms crossed above his head, eyes closed. It’s clearly the posture of someone who has been defeated, and she has to remind herself of that very firmly instead of checking out the strip of skin below the hem of his shirt.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes fly open and they’re dark, looking up at her through dark lashes and curly hair that’s just a little too long, and it’s– well, Clarke likes it better than anything else she’s seen at Ikea today.

“Yeah, fine,” he grunts, sitting up and putting his glasses back on. “Sorry, am I in your way?”

“No, not at all,” she says, starting to back away. “I’m just familiar with Ikea desperation and thought I’d… check, I guess.”

“Oh. Well… thanks,” he says, and she nods before turning back to her cart and trying to mentally review her list. She hasn’t made it far before he calls after her, “Hang on a sec.” He catches up to her in a few strides and she finds that he’s not as much taller as she would have guessed. “I’m looking for my sister,” he confesses. “Maybe you’ve seen her?”

“Maybe,” Clarke says, doubtful. She’s certain she would have noticed if this guy had been accompanying a small child. 

“Her name is Octavia? And I’m Bellamy.”

“What does she look like?” Clarke prompts. He colors slightly and pulls his phone back out, scrolling through his camera roll.

“Brown hair, kind of average height…” When he finds an acceptable photo, Clarke is surprised to see that it features him standing next to a girl who is definitely out of high school, possibly even out of college. Clarke had definitely been picturing a six-year-old.

“You lost your adult sister in Ikea?” She laughs, even more amused when he winces.

“I know how dumb it sounds. She lost me, actually. We fought, she got mad, and the next thing I know, she’s gone.”

“And your theory was that she’s hiding? I saw you looking in the kitchen cabinet displays,” she explains when he looks confused.

“I’m honestly open to any ideas,” he says, shoulders slumping. “I’ve been through the entire store three times, checked the restaurant, checked the car… She’s not answering her phone and I don’t know where else she could be.”

Clarke doesn’t know this Bellamy guy, but he looks worried and regretful and she knows a little bit about running away when she just can’t deal. Maybe she can help.

“How mad is she?” Clarke asks, starting to walk again. Bellamy keeps pace beside her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what did you guys fight about? Is this an ‘I want to annoy my brother’ thing, or an ‘I’m seriously pissed and I need some space to cool down’ thing?”

“Probably the second one. I mean, O has a short fuse but I know I earned it this time.”

“What happened?” Clarke asks, curious. He shoots her an uncertain look and she realizes that she needs to backtrack. “I mean, if you want to tell me. You don’t owe me anything, I’m just a nosy stranger.”

“No, it’s okay,” he says, scratching his arm in discomfort. “We’re here because she’s moving in with her boyfriend and I was being a dick about it. I told her I don’t think she’s ready, but I’m really the one who needs to adjust.”

“You don’t like the guy?”

“I like him fine,” Bellamy shrugs, opening and closing a wardrobe as they amble past. No Octavia. “I’m not trying to be protective. I think Lincoln is a good guy. I just also can’t imagine being in that place in my own life, so it’s hard for me to be excited that my younger sister is ready for that step, you know?”

“Just because something is right for you doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone,” Clarke points out. He frowns at her and she smiles innocently. “That’s probably not what you want to hear, but I don’t know you. I’m not that invested in whether you think I’m a nice person or not.”

He laughs outright at this, soft and unintentional and warm.

“Please, don’t hold back on my account. I was just thinking that Octavia said pretty much the same thing.” He eyes Clarke with mock suspicion. “Did she put you up to this?”

“Nope. I’m just giving these nuggets of wisdom away for free.”

“They’re worth every penny.”

Clarke smirks and reaches across him to grab some hand towels. He has to come to a quick stop so he doesn’t get clotheslined, her shoulder bumping against his chest.

"So tell me, wise one–”

“I usually go by Clarke.”

“Clarke,” he amends, pushing her arm away and passing her the towels she’s reaching for. “Where do you think my sister is?”

Her lips twist ruefully.

“I’m guessing she called the boyfriend– Lincoln?– to come pick her up. She’s probably letting you stew for a little while, screening your calls, and then she’ll send you a text telling you she got another ride home.”

Bellamy groans, pulling his phone out and typing a couple of messages.

“I’m an idiot. I should have checked with Lincoln first.”

“Don’t feel bad, grasshopper,” she says, patting him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll buy you a meatball. You can wait for your sister to text you back and I’ll tell you about the time I almost got arrested after I ran away and my parents changed the alarm code while I was gone.”

In the end, it’s his sister’s boyfriend who lets Bellamy know Octavia called for a ride. He walks Clarke through the rest of the store, helping her track down the last items on her list, and even waits in the checkout line with her.

“Are you trying to redeem yourself?” She asks when he helps her load her heavier pieces into the trunk of her car. “Because you don’t really need to. One fight with your sister doesn’t make you a bad person, necessarily.”

“I’m not that invested in whether you think I’m a good person,” he says, grinning cheekily at her.

“Fast learner,” she says approvingly. He opens her car door for her and she pauses. “See how much you learn when you hang out with me?”

“Please, will you be my Mr. Miyagi?”

“Sure. I can give you a bunch of tasks that seem pointless and then at the end you’ll be able to assemble my dresser for me.”

“Wow,” he grins. “Big promises. We should probably start as soon as possible.”

She hesitates before pulling out a pen and scribbling her address on her receipt. When she hands it to him, he grips it tight, like it’s important.

“If you’re not too busy apologizing to your sister, you can come over anytime,” she offers, appreciating the way his eyes brighten. “One of my roommates is going to make a drinking game out of us trying to put my furniture together. It should be fun and humiliating.”

“I’ll be there,” he promises.

“You sure?” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s not too weird, since I just met you?”

“No weirder than losing your adult sister in a furniture store, or helping a complete stranger find said sister.”

“So what you’re saying is that if it’s on par for us, it doesn’t matter?”

“Exactly.”

The best part is, it doesn’t actually feel weird. Sure, Raven and Jasper and Monty give them a hard time about the circumstances under which they met, but they would have given Clarke a hard time no matter what. Bellamy gets along with them naturally, her furniture ends up looking right (even if they have a few pieces inexplicably left over), and she gets his number at the end of the night.

“See?” He says, lingering in the doorway as she walks him out. “Minimal weirdness.”

“I’d say about the average amount."

“I might have to redefine my threshold for weird,” he says, leaning closer to her. “If you agree to go out with me, that is.”

She smiles and raises up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“I’d like that.”


End file.
